Between Octobers Bk 1, Savor The Days Series (27 page)

“I was . . . guilty.” I had to drag the
words out.

“Really? Over . . . ?”

“Over the fact that I know she’s right about
me. In a sense.”

“You’re hardly capable of subtlety, let
alone deception.” His fingers pushed through my hair, drawing it
back from my face. “Tell me why.”

I took a deep breath and forced out the
words. “She never really liked me, but she never treated me like
she hated me until I got pregnant. And I can’t blame her. I ruined
his life.” As the mother of an almost sixteen-year-old, I could
clearly see why Maria’s reaction was so intense.

Noah’s childlike ways did not match the way
I felt about Sol or myself at the same age, though his behavior was
much the same. Noah’s life could easily bear similar circumstances,
which was why he’d been forbidden to date until he turned sixteen.
He was smart and had a real chance to make something of his life,
but he was still just a child. Just like his father was.

I thought Sol was so grown-up—he was only
one year older than Noah when he became a father. Painted in that
light, I saw how dense it was to think we were ready to parents. We
were babies with babies. We thought we knew everything and had no
idea how fast we’d have to grow up or how much we’d have to
sacrifice. The price went far beyond the cost of diapers. Sol bore
the brunt of the decision himself, putting off college for a more
convenient time that never came.

“You think he wouldn’t have married you?”
Evan propped himself up on his elbows to stare at me.

“Maybe, but not until after college.”

“Then you didn’t ruin anything.” He laid his
head back on the pillow.

“But I changed everything. He was supposed
to go to college. Instead, he had to find a job so I could continue
my education and then he never went back. It seemed like whenever
he wanted to step away from work, something would come up, like
they needed to expand, someone would quit, or some other kind of
business problem. Or I’d get pregnant.”

I sat up. “Even right before the accident,
Sol wanted to sell his half of the construction company and go back
to school. Then, I found out I was pregnant. I never got to tell
him, but I knew what it meant. He would’ve put it off, again. So
when Maria brings up those subjects, I have nothing to say. I may
not have planned for things to be that way, but that’s how they
happened. You know, I always do things like that, too.”

“It’s bad timing, nothing more.”

“It’s more than that,” I argued. “Like, now
that I have new furniture, I want new carpeting. I’m tired of the
hard, cold tile everywhere. But I should have done the floors
first. Then, I promised myself I was going to be more independent.
I even talked to Dr. Lena about you and about going back to work,
and she said work was a good idea because I needed to stand on my
own before I could stand with you. Then I married you.” I paused,
considering how easily my words could be misconstrued. “Not that I
regret it—I’m happy being your wife.” The title made me smile. “But
I think she was trying to tell me that there should be more to who
I am than there has been in the past.”

Evan brushed his hand against my cheek.
“Gracie, there are millions of facets to who you are. All of which
have very little to do with me, or him for that matter. You are
that rare person who suffers no compulsion to gain approval. You
live your life on your own terms and I admire that.”

“I do things backwards. Have a baby, then
get married. Get married, then get to know each other. Talk about
putting the cart before the horse—I’ll probably end up buried
before I die.”

He chuckled, pulling me back to his chest.
“I asked you, remember? I know you have trouble saying ‘no’ to
anyone. Ever.”

I thought about my ring. The time he took in
choosing the design himself, the obvious expense of it. “What would
you have done if I had said no?”

His sweet smile turned dark. “You said
‘yes’. But do you see a pattern, though?”

I shook my head.

“Every bit of blame, you take as if it’s
yours and run the other direction with it. It’s not your fault that
you rouse such passion in people.” His fingers brushed along my
shoulder.

“Would you tell me one of your faults
now?”

“When I find one, you’ll be the first to
know.” We both laughed and I relaxed, listening to the steady sound
of his heart.

His confession came in a whisper. “My
biggest flaw, aside from being painfully unworthy, is I’ll do
anything you want, Gracie. Without hesitation or regard for anyone
but you.” One finger touched my chin, drawing my focus from his
heart to his eyes. “I need you, much too much.”

Whatever Evan put his hands to, whether
public or private, he was passionate. His love was zealous.
Anger—consuming. His joy was ecstasy, just as contagious as his
laugh. His encompassing arms kept away worry, as did his infectious
smile. His face told me everything without a word. His shoulders
offered friendship and his arms lent support. His legs were a
foundation set beside me. He was my friend, my partner in life, and
I loved him more and more every day. His touch was hypnotic,
consuming, and controlling. It wiped away all clear thought.

I burned in the fire he kindled, responding
the only way I knew how—with everything.

No Plan

The sobering scent of pine is strong as I
leap from the would-be coffer. Lunging forward, one foot hits the
ground. At the same time, I reach for the shining handle sticking
out from the back of her belt. The second my fingers touch it, I
toss my other foot directly between her shoulder blades, kicking
with all my strength. In one quick move, I have the gun and she’s
falling into the hole she’s prepared for me.

My fingers squeeze the trigger, but nothing
happens. Fear shoots through me and I break to the side, making for
the tree line, feet flying as if they’ve sprouted wings.

I’m at least twenty feet into the mangled
foliage before there’s any reactive pursuit.

I stray through the thickening woods in
between branches of closely packed trees and vines, running around
the things I can’t jump over. The twigs and branches whip about my
face and catch in my hair. My wrists stay locked over my stomach,
guarding.

All I have to do is run and I can run for
miles.

The colors of sunset deepen as hope rises,
guiding every step as the bright of a full harvest moon hangs in
the young night, lending its glorious light to my escape.

I breathe in the pine-smell of freedom.

Everyone was downhill at the opposite end of
the property, helping to set up the tents and tables for Noah’s
party. Evan was overseeing everything, but he’d roped Sheri into
helping with the last-minute details.

I’d already finished preparing everything
for Noah’s family dinner; the peach pie was cooling, the food was
simmering. Now I was vacuuming the area rug in the living room.

Caleb jumped from the sofa when the doorbell
rang, tossing his book to the floor. I gave him ‘the look’ and he
stopped to pick it up, giving me time to beat him to the entry.

I checked the peephole to find Sheri waiting
on the porch in a light pink power suit. Her face held an air of
deep concentration that was broken when Caleb swung the door open.
I couldn’t resist his puppy dog eyes.

“Hi!” he hollered.

Sheri smiled down at him. “Aren’t you a big
boy, answering the door? Here’s to a job well done.” She shook his
hand and passed him a few bills.

Caleb’s face lit up. “I’m saving this to be
rich,” he chirped. “Thanks!” He ran to his room in search of his
piggy bank. For his age, he was surprisingly conscientious.

Sheri looked to me. “Alright, I’ve got the
big present. Open the garage so we can pull it in before Noah
sees.” There was an excited look in her eyes as she gestured to the
giant red bow in her hands.

My feet unconsciously stumbled down the hall
while the foggy thoughts fought to connect. My hand found the
switch on the wall and the garage door rolled up with a rackety
hum. As the large door drew higher, my eyes latched onto the shiny
chrome and black tread. Soon, all I could see was the large, black
shape of a pick-up truck. Noah’s birthday present.

And red. There was lots of red.

My ears felt like they’d been stuffed with
cotton. When did I reach this bizarre alternate universe where
there was no such thing as parental authority?

Marcus stepped out of the driver’s seat. He
and Sheri were going on about how exciting, how wonderful it was.
They couldn’t wait to see the look on Noah’s face when he saw his
shiny new truck. There was nothing wonderful about any of it, but I
was very excited. I could tell they were both under the impression
that Evan and I had discussed this extensively and decided,
together, what to give Noah for his birthday.

I wanted to vomit.

Marcus must have picked up on my mood
because he suddenly had to leave. Sheri lingered, going off to find
Caleb. I think he was her favorite person. Aside from Evan, he was
the only one to whom she expressed a true kindness—everyone else,
she just put up with. She was always giving him things, playing
games with him, doing her best to spoil him when she came around. I
didn’t mind because she was hardly ever around.

I closed the garage and went back to
vacuuming. Vigorously. A minute later, Sheri tapped my arm to let
me know she was leaving and mouthed the words, “Evan is coming,” as
she left.

When Evan entered, all was quiet. He noticed
my demeanor immediately and sighed, taking me by the arm and
leading me towards the bedroom. But Caleb was on the bed, playing
fort under the canopy.

“We can talk in the garage,” I
suggested.

I followed down the hall to the large dark
door and stepped in after him. I wanted him to see the shiny, black
death trap. I wanted him to explain.

But he smiled.

“Good, it’s here,” he sounded relieved. “I
was running out of reasons to keep Noah away.”

“Sheri and Marcus dropped it off a little
while ago.”

He looked at me for a moment. “What’d I do
wrong?”

“You bought him a car.” The accusation was a
livid whisper.

“He’s sixteen. He should get a car for his
birthday.”

“You didn’t think this was something you
should share with me?” I asked incredulously, getting angrier by
the second. “Marcus and Sheri knew all about it. They helped you
pick it out. You cannot give him a car. He has to earn it.”

“I think he has already,” he said,
lightly.

“How is he going to pay for insurance and
gas?”

“I’m doing that.”

“No, you’re not.”
The
arrogance
! “I can’t
believe you didn’t talk to me about this.”

“There’s no reason for him not to have it.
Grace, he’s a good kid.”

“Yes,” I agreed, “he’s a very good kid and
you are not giving him a car!” I stomped my feet, asserting my
point.

“Oh, I call bullshit!” He banged his fist on
the hood. “Why? Because I’m not his father?”

“You leave his father out of this!”

“What else does he have to do?” Evan was
yelling now, too.

The fight had begun and he came out
swinging—ticking off the reasons on his fingers.

“He’s a good student, occupying all his time
in sports and school-related activities, he has his driver’s
permit, he’s getting his license next weekend. You won’t have to
taxi him around.”

Did he really contend that things should be
so simple? I tightened my lips, unable to think through the
mounting frustration.

“Don’t you do that.” He raised an accusing
finger at me. “Don’t stop talking to me because you don’t like what
I’m saying. You can’t make a demand without giving adequate reason.
I’ve gone through a great deal of trouble to get this for him.”

I swallowed, trying to choke down the lump
in my throat, but it wouldn’t budge. Soon, Evan was tired of
waiting. He cursed and kicked the plastic barrel of dog food.

“Hear me out. I’ve put a lot of thought into
this,” I glared at the choice of words, but he ignored me, making a
circuit around the garage as he explained. “It’s a truck—no room
for snogging in the back seat, or friends to distract him from
driving. It is a manual shifter; he can stay focused on the road.
It’s the safest type of truck in its class, and it’s used, so you
can’t object to the cost. And if he scratches it up or wrecks, it’s
not too much to repair.”

Tears sprang from my eyes. I turned, trying
to blink them away before they escaped.

He stopped pacing. “That’s it, isn’t it?
It’s not that I can’t give him the car. You’re afraid to let him
drive it.”

“How could you do this? He’s my son.” I
pounded my chest with my palm. The action made me think of a big
gorilla beating his chest in a show of strength. The contrast was
pathetic.

“I didn’t know it would worry you this way.
I suppose I should’ve, but . . .” He ran his hands through his
hair. “I’m an ass.”

“You cannot give him this truck.”

“Gracie, he’s been through driving school.
You’re being over-protective.”

I was expecting something along the lines of
a retreat, an offer to forget about the whole thing, so the jumbled
words didn’t make sense at first. I blinked away the blur to see
his face. His eyes were soft and warm, his expression bemused.

“What?”

“Explain to me why he can’t have it.”

“Evan, I don’t want him to. That’s
enough.”

My head suddenly felt like exploding and I
couldn’t articulate. All my reasons were encased behind a wall of .
. . he just couldn’t have it.

He stepped close to me, looking down into my
eyes. “You’re going to let your fears keep him from something he
deserves? A rite of passage? That’s not like you, Gracie.”